Page 127 of Lucky 14

“Ky…” his voice is a mixture of a request and a groan.

“Yeah, mousey?”

He just lets out a stuttered breath, like he can’t find the words.

I’ll help him find them. Dragging myself out feels like leaving home. The air cools my shaft, and I bite my lip, then drive back into him.

Oakley cries out, tightening on me. I have to concentrate hard to keep the tingles of pleasure from overwhelming me. I want them to overwhelm me. I want to be so overtaken that I can’t remember reality anymore.

“Ky,” Oakley says. “Stop holding back.”

I barely keep the grin off my face before I pull back and start hammering into him. I don’t go slow anymore, pulling out enough to drag my tip over his prostate over and over until he’s a whimpering mess. He thrashes on the bed.

“You gonna come for me, little mousey?” It’s hard to talk with how good I’m feeling.

“Please,” Oakley begs. He fucking begs, and it’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever heard.

“Come for me.”

He does, his entire body locking up. I keep up the same pace until I feel him pulsing around me, and I know he’s shooting cum into the sheets. It makes my own pleasure ramp up so high that I know I can’t stop it. It wraps around me, locking up my brain in a pleasured haze. I come, pulsing into Oakley, his body dragging pulse after pulse of pleasure out of me.

Finally, I pull out and collapse next to Oakley. He groans as I leave him, and it makes me smirk past the haze.

We lay there for a while. I feel more at peace than I have in a long time, and I don’t want it to leave. All I want to do is sleep. But not the sleep I did before, the exhausted kind of sleep. The deeply needed sleep.

But Oakley is still here.

It startles me how much I want to sleep next to him. It’s such a foreign feeling. In my delusion, I think that Oakley’s presence will chase my demons away while I sleep.

Except that he thinks I am one.

I frown, staring up at the ceiling again, counting the knots.

“Ky?” Oakley asks, his voice soft.

I just grunt.

“Even if you were crazy, I’d still want every bit of you. I want you, Ky. Whatever that means. I want you.”

I stroke his head, wishing with everything in me that that could be true. Slowly, fatigue grips me with its fingers, pulling me down with it. I’m so exhausted from fighting, from drinking, from everything, that I close my eyes, just to rest.

Just rest.

I wait for that voice that screams I’m not safe, and yet, it doesn’t come. Then, with my fingers buried in Oakley’s hair, sleep pulls me into its hold.

CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO

Day 12

I’ve found a phone in Wyatt’s office. My hands shake as I pick it up, swiping at the screen. It’s been so long since I’ve held a phone, and the sleek screen and weight of it feel like precious gold in my hands.

The phone lights up, a generic lock screen in place, and for a second, extreme disappointment fills my body. I should have known. Of course he’d lock it.

I breathe in for four seconds, hold for seven, then let it out for eight.

Oakley and—I presume Kyan—were fucking just a bit ago, but it’s quiet now. The sounds they were making sent a confused tingle through my body. For some stupid fucking reason, I almost knocked on the door.

Oakley has been acting completely off for the last few days. I assumed it was the stress getting to him. Which is fair, it’s getting to me too. I feel like a rat caught in a trap just waiting for someone to come dispatch me. My skin has been crawling incessantly despite the showers I take to pass the time. What else is there to do?